


Millennial Wars: The Way Home

by fihli



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (and poe loves him), (he's a corgi), Alternate Universe - Everyone Tolerates Each Other, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dog BB-8, Gen, Mechanic Rey, Rey Solo, and a lot of other things!, barista phasma, basically a himym/f.r.i.e.n.d.s./new girl au, millie the cat is also a thing, no pairings yet but (SHRUG EMOJI)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-01-20 13:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12434037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fihli/pseuds/fihli
Summary: —and when you’re twenty-something, you go to New York City. And when you’re twenty-something in New York City, it’s so new that it’s almost a different world, a different universe, a different galaxy… And when you’re twenty-something in New York City, you’re jolted into this strangeness, this possibility that you’re a part of something bigger than yourself, maybe for the first time...Rey is twenty-two and a mechanic, and is moving states to find her estranged brother and to physically beat her demons into the ground if she has to. Finn is twenty-three and terrified, and is making gigantic life decisions with the possibility of even bigger consequences. Ben (the brother in question) and Poe (forever neck deep in classwork) are twenty-four, and honestly just trying to make it day-to-day. And Phasma and Hux are twenty-five with problems of their own, not to mention everyone else's, too.Or, six twenty-somethings live and fight and work and argue and become family in New York City.





	1. Rey

**Author's Note:**

> _"...to belong nowhere is a blessing and a curse, like any kind of freedom..."_
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> (Welcome to the au! Leave your knowledge of the actual TFA characters at the door, and embrace the millennial messes that are in This Damn Fic. There's going to be a lot of Solo family drama, a lot of coffee, a lot of angsty references to city life because I miss it, and hopefully a lot of fun. I love these kids, and I like putting them in circumstances where they all have to get along. I'm not sure about any pairings yet, so we'll just have to wait and see!)

Rey Solo never felt comfortable in airports.

She wasn’t scared of flying. Watching the planet slowly recede as the plane was engulfed by clouds was one of her favorite things, but the act of getting on the plane— the security checks and the baggage scans and the lines eight miles long at Starbucks, not to mention those newspaper stands that sold candy for like _twelve dollars_ — airports just felt like one big infomercial that she was obligated to show up an hour and a half early for. 

Scuffing the toe of her boot on the floor, Rey shifted her shoulders under the heavy straps of her military-grade backpack. She didn’t have any checked luggage, just the dusty green backpack and the probably-too-big-to-be-a-carry-on-item duffel by her feet. And the pillow, worn and tattered, squeezed in her arms like a teddy bear or a security blanket. The pillow was dirty as hell, but so was everything else she owned. 

She took one last look behind her as the line to enter the plane moved forward. The wide airport windows gave her one last look at the breathtakingly blue New Mexico sky; she could even see the flat top of a mesa in the distance. Her next breath hitched in her throat. _Am I seriously doing this?_

The answer to that, as well as the other hundred times she’d asked herself the same question, was a firm, if shaky, _hell yes._

It was time. She’d moved to New Mexico straight out of high school. She’d gotten a job at a garage (more like an internship; her horrible boss hadn’t paid her _shit_ until about six months in, claiming he was _teaching_ her, even though by month two she was pretty much on her own). She’d made a tentative home out of the one bedroom apartment above said garage.

(Friends were hard to come by. Rey’s testy attitude and loner tendencies weren’t the best combo for making friends. _Eh,_ she’d tell herself, late at night in her apartment with nothing but a PB &J and a lukewarm Rolling Rock to keep her company, _people kinda suck, anyway._

God. That sort of talk combined with her mechanic skills. No wonder people said she was like her dad.)

She pushed those thoughts away and held out her New Mexico ID and rumpled plane ticket to be scanned, checking her phone with her other hand. Ben hadn’t texted her back, but that was more than expected. Her brother was a lot of things —cryptic, irritating, prone to immediately ghosting if things got difficult— but a good texter he was not. She’d texted him last night in a fit of _I gotta get out of this town_ that she knew she’d regret, a long paragraph sent at, technically, two thirty in the morning to a number she wasn’t entirely sure was his— 

_Okay so idk what’s going on with you bc i never do, but i can’t handle NM anymore and i don’t want to go home.. because why would i want to go home?? so i’m coming to new york. idk what i’ll do when i get there, but i’m coming anyway._

And then an emoji, the girl shrugging one, the one with brown hair. And one more, the sun hiding behind a raining cloud. An inside joke, a leftover sibling reflex from what felt like fifty years ago. She could see the last text she sent him an inch above this new one, nine entire months prior, a fake cheerful _“Happy new years!!”_ with no reply. 

She’d gotten a reply last night, well, early that morning. With the time difference it was even earlier in New York, two whole hours earlier. Rey didn’t want to know what he was doing up at four thirty in the morning.

_Ok, text me when you get in._

And that was it. She shoved her phone back into her sweatshirt pocket. She supposed she should feel grateful that he even replied to her at all, but all she felt was vague annoyance and a tiny, slight feeling in her stomach like she wanted to find the nearest trash can and hurl for five minutes. _Am I seriously doing this? This is not happening._

It was almost nine. The garage opened at nine. In exactly four and a half minutes her boss, her lumbering, gutter-mouthed, ill-equipped-to-run-a-garage boss was going to find out that his only competent employee had, for lack of a better term, pulled a Solo and left him in the dust. 

_Oh, god._ Rey rolled her eyes as she made her way towards the plane. _I’m a fucking Solo._

Her mom would be so disappointed. 

Scooting down the skinny plane aisle, her duffel awkwardly bumping into her legs as she maneuvered, Rey found her seat right near the wing of the plane. By some stroke of luck she got the window seat on a less-than-full flight; no one wanted to leave New Mexico for New York at nine in the morning on a Thursday. She put her headphones on, put her iPod on shuffle, and tried not to think too hard about what she was leaving.

And _really_ tried not to think too hard about where she was going. 

Some _Bleachers_ song played as the plane took off. Rey shifted down in her seat, slouching and leaning her head against the window as New Mexico faded like a memory. With one brushstroke of white clouds it was gone; four years of her life, eighteen to twenty-two. She’d had her first legal drink there, in her apartment with a random girl and her boyfriend, in town on a roadtrip with a busted engine. She’d never learned their names and they were gone in the morning. She’d raced her first car there, on a back road with the full moon and nothing else illuminating the cracked pavement. She’d cut her hair there, in a diner bathroom at one in the morning, with purple plastic scissors; a few long hacks and her waist length hair, normally braided to keep it up, barely brushed her shoulders.

She had it up now, tied in three different buns like a mohawk. Thin strands framed her face, and she thought for a heartbeat about finding a bobby pin to get them out of her eyes, but decided against it. 

Her past faded along with the desert as her eyes drifted shut and the plane sped forward, towards New York and, she couldn’t help but hope, freedom.

★★★

Rey awoke with a start as the plane landed, jostling her forward in her seat. She flailed, grabbing her phone before it fell, but missing her iPod. Her headphones snapped out of the jack and it landed face-first on the floor of the plane. She scooped it up, glancing around furtively, but it didn’t look like anyone was paying attention to her.

Sometime during the five hour flight, her phone had died.

_Fuck,_ she thought, wrapping her headphones around her hand and shoving them in the front pocket of her backpack, along with the iPod, and fishing out her long charger cord. _Now I have to find somewhere to give this phone some juice before I can tell Ben I’m here. Hopefully he answers._

She tried to ignore the way her heart froze up at the thought of Ben not replying. Her original text to him had been well-crafted, something she’d pored over that morning, making it seem lighthearted enough that he wouldn’t realize she was desperate. _Maybe he’ll let me stay with him,_ her late-night, early-morning brain had rationalized, apparently forgetting that her brother was Ben Solo, and he was the worst person alive. 

Her late-night, early-morning brain had also rationalized purchasing a last-minute nonstop plane ticket from New Mexico to New York, thus completely draining her bank account, which had already been suffering thanks to almost criminal rent charges and miniscule paychecks. Rey leaned her head back onto the seat cushion and told herself, in her grownup voice, to breathe.

_Everything’s going to be fine,_ she thought. Her grownup voice was so calming. _Ben’s your older brother. He loves you, I think. Everyone has protective instincts, so when he sees you alone he’ll help you, probably. I mean, New York’s such a big city, and you don’t know anyone, and don’t know your way around, and just because you’ve seen a few episodes of_ How I Met Your Mother _doesn’t mean you can hack it alone in New York, you gigantic fucking moron!_

She sat up straight, breathing loudly and heavily, eyes wide. 

“This was such a mistake!”

“What, taking this airline?” In the aisle seat across from her, a businessman with a severe middle part scoffed. “Don’t I fucking know it.”

Rey leaned back again as the seatbelt light went off and people started getting things down from the overhead bins. She wiped her hands on her jeans; they were a pair of her work jeans, there was a big rip in the left knee and grime stains all over the light denim. That’s who she was, Rey the mechanic, black under her nails and grease wiped all over her forehead. That crazy girl who left home at eighteen because she was sick to hell of all the damn fucking drama. 

That girl who made something of herself in a strange state, all alone in the desert.

_My bank account is drained,_ Rey thought as she slung her backpack and her duffel over the same shoulder and made her way out of the plane. _I don’t know how to live in a city. I’ve never hailed a cab in my damn life, and I don’t really like bagels all that much. But I can do this._ I can do this! _I’m Rey. I can do anything._

_I_ have _to do this. With or without Ben. I chose it. It’s my life now._

She followed the signs to the New Mexico baggage claim and, even though she didn’t have a bag to pick up, she picked a spot by a plug, arranged her things to hide her charging phone, and made a beeline for the nearest Starbucks. 

After opening her wallet, Rey had to admit that her _I can do anything_ mantra from earlier wasn’t about to help her pay for coffee. She had a crumpled single, a couple of dimes, and an Australian dollar coin that she’d found one night outside of a gas station. Her debit card wasn’t any use, either, it was still drained from the plane ticket purchase. She got in line anyway.

_New York,_ she scoffed to herself, scanning the menu. _Fucking hell. At least water’s still free._

So was sugar, so after grabbing a straw and her venti water cup, Rey made a quick pit stop at the counter to grab some. _A handful of packets in one pocket, a handful of packets in the other hand without the water in it, doing good, no one staring, turn to head back to my luggage, still good, I am in the clear—_

Rey turned, and immediately slammed into someone waiting for their coffee right behind her. He went down and so did she, spilling water as she fell, scattering white and orange sugar packets like the world’s worst parade float. He — _god_ , was this guy dignified, brushing off his clean-cut, if sugar-covered, gray suit like he hadn’t a care in the world— was on his feet in an instant, holding out his hand to Rey. His eyes were wide and earnest, like deep brown pools, and her first, vicious thought was she could take him at poker any day of the week.

“I’m so sorry!” he said, making a gesture with his hand like _take it, already_ , but she didn’t. She hauled herself to her feet using the counter, and tried to kick some of the damp sugar packets underneath it like no one had seen her almost suplex a complete stranger in the middle of a Starbucks. “I don’t watch where I’m going, I should work on that.”

“Uh, no,” Rey said, watching awkwardly as he scooped the rest of the sugar and water globs off of the floor with his bare hands and deposited them into the nearest trashcan, “I ran into you, so… I’m sorry?”

He held out his hand again, still covered in melting sugar. It was a reflex, a businesslike one, and even though he looked to be about her age, he was still in a suit, in an airport, in New York. _Out of my league? We’re not even playing the same sport._

“Yeah, uh, have a good flight,” she said, and turned to leave. The guy grabbed her hand.

“I just got in,” he said. “Are you okay? At least let me buy you a coffee.” She yanked her hand back.

“Don't take my hand,” she said, hissed it, almost, and he gave her a lopsided smile that didn’t scream _Wall Street_ at all. She melted a little, like the sugar on the floor. And she needed coffee, badly. “Fine, but I’ll pay you back.”

“I use the app,” he said, and flashed his phone, with the green Starbucks logo front and center. “I’ll just use a reward. No big deal. I’m Finn, by the way.”

“You live here, Finn?”

“In the LaGuardia airport? Not even if you paid me.” There was that smile again. It was so damn _endearing_. “But yeah, New York City. Home sweet home. How about you?”

“I’m from North Dakota,” Rey said quickly, before she could talk herself out of providing information. “Lived in New Mexico for a little bit. My brother lives in the city.”

“Huh,” Finn said, grabbing her coffee from the barista. He’d gotten her the biggest size, and she breathed in the steam gratefully. “I have a friend from North Dakota. Doesn’t talk about it much, though.”

“There’s nothing much to talk about.” Rey laughed. “It kinda sucks.”

“I think he’d agree with you,” Finn said. Rey took the lead, weaving her way through the crowd towards her clump of luggage by the wall. “He’s actually supposed to be picking me up soon, maybe you two could meet. Same state, interests shared, blah blah. He’s kind of a dick, though, so don’t be surprised if you want to talk to me the whole time.”

Another sunrise-like smile. Maybe she’d spent too much time alone in the desert, but Rey honest to god thought that she could watch this stranger smile all day. 

“I should text my brother,” she said, and crouched by her backpack as Finn leaned on the wall above her. Thankfully, her phone had been charging the whole time, and was almost halfway to fully charged. She shot off a quick text.

_i’m at the airport_

An immediate response, followed by an immediate sense of relief. It almost made her sick, how relieved she felt that someone she knew — _used to know_ — was around to help her. She kept telling herself that she didn’t need help, but here she was, not refusing it. _Asking_ for it.

_Asking for help is not weakness,_ she thought as she thumbed through the text. _Like I’ll ever believe that._

_Rey! Kylo’s driving so to save all of our lives I’ll be the middleman. I’m Poe, and I can’t wait to meet you. I know exactly zero things about you, so that’s fun!_

Rey squinted at her phone screen, and the most confusing text she’d ever seen in her life.

“Who the fuck is Kylo?”

Finn pushed his shoulder off the wall. “Wait, _what_?”

Rey held out her phone so that he could see. “I think my brother’s phone got stolen, or hacked, or something. He doesn’t use exclamation points, like ever—”

Finn grabbed her phone and read the text again, with wide eyes, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He laughed, a little, stuttering laugh, and read it again. And again.

“You…” He looked from her, to the phone, back to her. “Poe? Poe’s texting you, from Kylo’s phone? _Who are you_?”

“Do you know Ben Solo?” Rey asked, and snatched her phone back. Finn laughed again, but this time it was loud and unexpected. 

“There’s no fucking way _you’re_ Ben Solo’s sister!”

“ _Who the fuck is Kylo?_ ”

Finn composed himself, but still looked one more revelation away from losing it completely. “A nickname,” he managed to get out, “an inside joke— I think Hux started it, actually, or maybe it was Phasma…” 

“A nickname,” Rey stated. “For my brother. Ben.”

“I mean, it’s honestly more of a joke—”

“Who you’re _friends with_?”

“Hey, in my defense, it was mostly by accident.”

“Okay,” Rey said, taking in a deep breath, “start from the beginning. You’re friends with my brother.”

Finn raised his eyebrows. “You’re really surprised by this, aren’t you?”

“I mean, you’ve met him, right?”

That made Finn laugh again. “Checkmate. I was roommates with this girl Phasma like four years ago and she met him first. She’s kind of… Intense.”

“Intense like how?”

“Intense like you’ll know what I mean when you see her,” Finn said. “Which I’m sure you will if you’re sticking around. You _are_ sticking around, right?”

There was that look again, that hopeful look that hid absolutely no emotion whatsoever. Rey, in her years of being somewhat of a loner, had learned pretty quick how to tell when someone was lying. Finn wasn’t lying, hadn’t been lying the entire time she’d known him. He wanted her around, even after she’d crusted his nice suit in slowly drying sugar granules. 

Instead of sitting down and crying in a strange airport in a new city in front of a complete stranger like she wanted to, Rey impassively lifted and dropped one shoulder as she stood and gathered her things. 

“I really just need a ride into the city.”

If Finn was hurt, he didn’t show it. Instead he hefted her duffel bag over his shoulder and beckoned for her to follow him.

“We can wait outside. Excited for a family reunion?”

Rey rolled her eyes, more for her own benefit than his, as she followed him through the crowd around the baggage claim. The air outside blew straight through her sweatshirt, crisp with a strong undercurrent of pollution. Oh, yeah. It was autumn, and autumn usually meant cold. She was _not_ in New Mexico anymore. 

“I haven’t seen my brother in eight years,” she said, leaning back against a concrete column. “I get random texts every few months and I think to myself, _wow, at least I know he’s not dead_.” She scuffed her shoe against a lump of dried blue gum. “I still haven’t forgiven him for leaving me alone.”

She looked up then, saw naked pity in Finn’s eyes, and mentally kicked herself. 

“But, I mean, it’s fine, I’m fine. I’ll get a job somewhere and get a cheap apartment and—”

Finn lit up. “Live with me!”

“Uh, what?”

“Live with me,” he repeated, and put one large, warm hand on her shoulder. “I’m serious, Rey. I have an extra bedroom, and could really use the help with rent, because—” He paused, re-evaluated, and changed the subject. “And c’mon, you need somewhere to live. It all fits!”

“You barely know me,” Rey argued.

“You’re Rey, you moved here from New Mexico, and you need a place to live. _Boom_.”

Rey, despite herself, grinned back at him. “Okay, _fine_ , I’ll move in with you. But just for a trial run. You can kick me to the curb when I get difficult, promise.”

“The only one of my friends I haven’t lived with is Hux,” Finn said, like she was supposed to know who that was. “Believe me, I know difficult. You’ll be fine.”

Rey’s phone buzzed; another text from Ben, or more likely, whoever that Poe person was.

_COMIN IN HOT_

“God— _fuck_ ,” Finn muttered as tires screeched all the way from the front of the terminal’s entrance, “we should’ve just taken the subway.”

Rey saw the cloud of exhaust before she saw the car. A Buick Roadmaster, either ‘90 or ‘91, black, with a red racing stripe painted down the side. Even from far away, she could pick out a million things she could do to fix it up, but if that was Ben’s car, she knew he would rather scrap it completely than have her touch it. 

Finn picked up her duffel again and, to spite him, she grabbed the handle of his wheeled suitcase before he could. She stuck out her tongue and he laughed as they moved closer to the curb.

Ben’s car screeched to a stop right behind a Maybach —current year, bright blue, a car that Rey would give her right hand to drive even for a second— and a cream and brown blur shot out of the passenger’s seat window. Finn dropped her duffel and the next second his arms were full of… Rey craned her neck to see. _A corgi?_

“Hey, buddy!” Finn accepted corgi kisses with aplomb, leaning his head back and ruffling the fur behind the corgi’s wide ears. “You missed me. I know you missed me. I missed you, too, promise!”

“BB-8, _seriously_?” A guy in a leather jacket tumbled out of the passenger seat and grabbed the corgi by its orange collar, pulling him out of Finn’s arms and into his own. “What have I told you, _a million times_ , about jumping out the car window? Don’t do it! And what do you keep doing?” The guy made a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat like he actually expected the corgi to respond. 

“This is Poe,” Finn said, and elbowed him in the side, maneuvering so that the dog had room to wiggle back into his arms. “And this is BB-8, but you can call him anything as long as it starts with a B.”

“That’s a pretty solid rule,” Poe said, holding out his hand for Rey to shake. His brown hair curled in soft tufts by his ears, and his warm eyes had laugh lines creasing around them. _God,_ he seemed nice, too. Where had her brother even found these people? “Poe Dameron. I’ve heard so much about you!”

“Really?” Rey took her hand back. Poe snorted. 

“Not even a little. I don’t know if you know this yet, but your big bro’s kind of tight-lipped when it comes to family back home, which, as we learned yesterday—” Poe’s hand landed heavy on her shoulder “—apparently includes you.”

He ducked down to see inside the car. “Any more secret siblings we don’t know about? Or is this it?”

Finn carried both her duffel and his suitcase to the trunk as Rey stepped off of the curb and bent down to look at Ben for the first time in eight years. He finished sneering at Poe before leaning back to get a good look at her as well; different, but somehow the same, all at once. Folded up in the Roadmaster’s front seat like no vehicle manufacturer had ever been able to create a car with enough leg room and he was pissed about it, all long limbs and freckles and those ears that their mom swore he’d grow into some day but apparently grew with him instead.

She grinned. She couldn’t help it.

“You dyed your hair.”

“ _Ha,_ ” Finn said, sliding into the seat behind Ben. “I knew it! I’m telling Hux.”

“Hux knows,” Ben said, and it was him, a couple octaves lower, with different inflection than she remembered, but _him_. Rey got into the car and pushed her backpack to the floor as BB-8 hopped into the backseat and sat contentedly between her and Finn. “He’s helped me dye it before. Where have _you_ been?”

“Probably off at some corporate retreat,” Poe said, reaching back and punching Finn a few times good-naturedly as they sped out of the airport pick up area. “Come on, you bigshot, how was Florida? Get that raise you were gunning for? And how _dare_ you snapchat Phasma during that meeting and not me, okay, I—”

“I quit,” Finn said loudly. BB-8 nudged his hand and Finn got very interested in scratching him behind the ears as Poe stared, wide-eyed, fist still raised, and even Ben looked into the rearview mirror. “I quit. They invited me up onstage during the last session… One of the guys kept asking me what my goals for the next quarter looked like, and, I just…”

“Quit,” Poe finished. Finn ruffled BB-8’s fur. 

“Yeah. Please no one ask what my game plan is. It doesn’t exist.”

“So that’s why you asked me to be your roommate,” Rey said. Finn shrugged.

“You also seem really cool, if that helps.”

Ben raised both eyebrows into the rearview mirror. “Hey Finn, you _what_?”

“I was very enterprising and got myself a roommate,” Finn said, and kicked the back of the driver’s seat. “And she seems really cool, not like you would know or anything.” 

Ben rolled his eyes and looked back. Rey knew that look. The calculating eyes, the drawn brows, the slight bite of the inner lip. She’d served that look more times than she could count. To her boss, to customers, to a particularly difficult to crack engine, to herself in the mirror. Instead of the million and a half things she wanted to say, needed to say, _should have said_ , she felt herself cock her head to one side. 

“Dad says hi.”

“Fuck you,” he replied, and turned back to look at the road. His lips twitched upwards, though, just for a second, and she counted that as a victory. Her first one, however small. 

“So,” Poe said, craning his neck around to get a good look at her, “what brings you to the greatest city in the world?” 

Rey glanced out the car window, at the swiftly passing skyscrapers and billboards and people, so many _people_ , in so many layers or not enough, in fur coats and wide brim hats and platform heels and sneakers. Running and meandering and sauntering, sometimes playing music and sometimes yelling into cell phones, getting in and out of cabs, running late, busy always. 

“Needed a change,” she replied, knowing her voice was breathy with awe. She’d seen this place in movies, sure, but movies hardly did it justice. It was full to _bursting_.

“Hey,” Finn said, and kicked Ben’s seat again. “Where are we going?”

“Uh,” he said like it should be obvious, “triple four? You have some news to share.”

Finn’s forehead thumped onto the back of the seat. “You have to be kidding me. Can’t this wait? I can bring it up tonight, after dinner, I remember hearing we were going to do late dinner after she gets off work and after Poe finishes that essay—”

“Don’t remind me,” Poe groaned.

“Yeah, let’s wait until she gets whiskey happy and tries to jump between our buildings again,” Ben said, taking a corner a little too hard, making BB-8 slide into Rey’s leg. “If we’re lucky, Hux is there too. I think he has homework.”

Finn leaned back and rubbed his temples. “This is my nightmare.”

Poe leaned back to pat his knee. “Life decisions are like that.”

“Wait,” Finn said as they parallel parked (recklessly) in front of a Starbucks. The building number was 444, and the gilded double doors were propped open with colorful signs. “Ren, when was the last time you saw Phasma?”

Her brother apparently answered to this nickname, too. “I don’t know, Tuesday?”

“And Hux?”

“Damn, Finn. Sunday? Maybe?”

“And Poe and I were the first people you told about Rey coming to town, right?”

His eyes narrowed. “Something you were smug about for a good forty-five minutes, if I remember correctly.”

“And that was yesterday.” Finn finished, grinning. “So it seems like you have some news to share, too.” He pushed Rey out of the car and followed, BB8 in his arms, and slammed the door behind him. “Come on, we don’t want to keep _the two people in the entire world who hate surprises more than anything ever_ waiting, do we?”

Ben swore. 

“I’ll just wait out here.”

“Yeah, no.” Finn snapped his fingers impatiently. “Terrible life decision solidarity, come on.”

“Me coming here was not a terrible life decision,” Rey said, and even as she defended herself she almost didn’t believe it. Finn looked back at her like she was being ridiculous.

“No, I’m talking about us two idiots not telling Phasma stuff that goes on,” he explained. “That’s like, rule number one.”

“The golden rule,” Poe interrupted. 

“Higher than that,” Ben said as he got out of the car. He’d always been tall, but now he towered. “The platinum rule.”

“Shiny and chrome,” Finn agreed as he ducked ahead to mock hold the already open door for the three of them. He smirked over Rey’s head, presumably at Ben. “After you.”

As Poe and Ben entered the Starbucks, Finn looped his arm through Rey’s and pulled her back. Shrugging out of his wool coat, he draped it over her head and arranged it so she had limited vision through one of the buttonholes. 

“Finn, what the hell?”

“It’ll be more dramatic this way,” he argued, and took her hand. She let him this time; she could barely see, anyway, and his hand was warm and comforting even though her cheeks were a little warm from embarrassment at being led around under a coat. The Starbucks, like every Starbucks she’d ever been in, was a welcome respite from the elements and smelled like roasting coffee beans. It had barely been a half hour since her cup at the airport, and she already wanted another. 

“You got any more of those rewards?” she asked. Finn chuckled.

“For you? Of course. But depending on the mood in here, we might be drinking for free.”

They walked farther in as Rey tried to look around more, but was blocked at every angle by Finn’s coat. It didn’t sound very busy; machines clanked and papers rustled, undercut by a hum of voices and music coming from the ceiling. She recognized it. The opening chords to an old _Panic! At The Disco_ song that she hadn’t heard in ages. 

“Oh, _god_ ,” someone groaned loudly on the other side of the shop. “Will you turn this off? It sounds like I’m still living with Ren.”

An offended noise, probably Ben, and then a remote click. The song changed into a loud guitar wail. _Fall Out Boy._

“Better?” A girl’s voice, and she sounded pleased with herself.

“ _No_ ,” the first guy said. “I’m trying to work, Phasma, put something else on or I’m leaving.”

A loud laugh. “Bye, then!!”

Rey tried to lift the coat off of her head but Finn pulled it back down. She kicked his shin.

“Come on, Finn, this is fuckin’ _weird_ —”

“Okay, Finn,” the girl’s voice, Phasma, boomed suddenly. “What’s going on back there? You can’t drag random coat-covered strangers into my store and expect me not to notice.”

“Your store.” Rey heard Ben snort, followed by the clacking sound of coffee beans hitting the floor. “ _Ow_ , Phasma, come on!”

She must’ve thrown more beans, because more beans hit the floor. “Come on, Finn, who’s the weirdo?”

“Yeah, _Ben_ ,” Finn said. “Who’s the weirdo?”

Heavy footsteps crossed the floor, and the coat was yanked forcibly off of Rey’s head. She caught a quick glimpse of Ben’s eyes, big and brown and visibly pissed, probably the exact same as hers, before he grabbed her arm and moved her to the forefront.

The Starbucks was mostly the same as all of the other Starbucks that Rey had ever been in. A bar, stools, a couple of small tables, a window ledge with more stools, a long table near the back, and a lot of coffee. It was empty save for them, an old man with a book in a chair by the window, a redhead with a laptop (the _Panic! At The Disco_ hater, she guessed), and a girl with a vivid blonde pixie cut, leaning across the counter with her chin in her hands. Rey ripped her arm out of Ben’s grip; her face was _definitely_ red, she could feel it.

“This is Rey,” Ben said from behind her. “My sister.”

Phasma laughed. She had a nose ring and sharp blue eyes. “Good one.”

“You must think we’re idiots,” the redhead, who had made no moves to leave even though _Fall Out Boy_ was still playing softly in the background, said with a sneer. “You’re the worst liar, Ren, and I’m not falling for your shit.”

Rey wondered immediately how many times this guy had fallen for her brother’s shit. 

“He’s not lying,” Finn spoke up, a little too quick, because Phasma narrowed his eyes.

“Seriously? He got you two in on it, too? Tell me he’s not paying you.’

“Paying us,” Poe scoffed at the same time Ben did.

“Because I have those big bucks to blow, Phas.”

“Show her your ID,” Finn hissed, and nudged Rey in the side. She rolled her eyes. Somehow Ben had found the most dramatic group of people in New York City to fall in with, and now she was getting dragged in, too. Squashing the urge to roll her eyes again, and not really knowing why she was playing along, maybe it would get her out from under the spotlight faster, she dug in her backpack for her wallet. 

Marching across the warped hardwood floor, Rey slid her New Mexico driver’s license towards Phasma, who snatched it and scrutinized it. Rey knew it backwards and forwards— her April birthday, the unflattering picture of her grimacing towards the camera with her dusty hair half-up, and the last name. _Solo_. 

“No goddamn way,” Phasma breathed. She flung the license towards the redhead guy, who scrambled to pick it up at the same time Rey dove for it. She tried to grab it back as he dodged out of the way, and she fell into the seat opposite his as he glared at the card the same way Phasma had, like it had secrets and he was going to figure them out. Rey crossed her arms protectively over her torso as his piercing eyes, under fire-red brows same as his hair, moved from glaring at the card to glaring at her.

“Where did she even come from?” Rey heard Phasma ask.

“Uh,” Ben dragged it out. “Our mom?”

“This shouldn’t be real,” the redhead guy put the license down on his table and slid it across towards Rey, like he didn’t even want to hand it to her. “I already hate this. Why are you here?”

“Okay, Hux, don’t be rude,” Poe said, and dragged a chair up to the table. He set BB-8 on the ground, and the corgi got to work sniffing Hux’s shoes. “Aw, look at Beebo. He misses Millie. When can we come over again?”

Hux’s glare moved up and over to fix on Poe. “For the last time, we’re not having _pet play dates_ —”

“You have a dog, too?” Rey asked, half trying to alleviate the awkwardness (it was starting to make her nauseous) and half trying to change the subject off of herself. Hux’s glare (at this point almost a sentient being in it of itself) almost cut her in half.

“ _She’s a cat_.”

“Damn, sorry,” Rey said, and lifted her hands in mock surrender as she stood, her mind made up in an instant, in a viscous, damning thought that went kind of like _fuck these people_. She felt like she had in New Mexico; lost, insignificant. Dirty and small. She’d promised herself on that plane that she would never feel that way again. “Are we done here? I want to find a hotel before it gets dark.”

“I thought you were staying with Finn,” Ben said quickly, quicker than she thought he would. She shook her head _no_ as Finn’s eyebrows knit over his dark eyes. 

“We’re roommates,” he said, and she hiked her backpack over her shoulders. 

“I don’t want this,” she said, and gestured to all of them, encompassing the entire Starbucks with one sweep of her hand. “I’m not some inconvenience and I’m really not some party trick to stare at and try and figure out.” She pushed past Ben, and made sure to ram her shoulder into his arm as she passed. 

“Rey—” he started, and she felt her cheeks flame again at his reluctant, careless, roll-of-the-eyes tone. _God_ , was she just the biggest idiot in the entire world?

“This is what you want, right?” She looked over her shoulder in the doorway, framed by a bulletin board full of colorful flyers and a display of mugs. “I’m going to disappear, ‘cause I’m good at that, and you can go back to pretending you don’t have a family.”

Before anyone could say anything else she pushed past people entering the shop and back out onto the busy street. After getting her duffel out of Ben’s trunk (of course he didn’t lock his car), she picked a direction at random and started walking. As the sun slowly set, bathing the sidewalks and towering buildings in shades of orange and yellow, Rey kept walking. She didn’t stop walking until all the shame and confusion she had bottled up inside drained through the soles of her boots and all she was left with was exhaustion, pure and simple and controllable. 

She found her way to a park, an oasis of nature in the concrete and metal forest of New York. The leaves had already started to turn, and she sank onto a vacant bench as dead leaves swirled under her feet and the last of the sun’s rays dipped below the skyline. 

_I’m broke_ , she thought as she arranged her backpack and her duffel on the bench next to her, keeping one arm looped through both straps. _And alone. Really good job there, Rey, you couldn’t have just swallowed your damn pride and dealt with your asshole brother and his asshole friends for one night. Or at least until you got a job. Would that have been so hard?_

It would have been, and she knew it. This way, while harder, was better. She’d hate herself if she was in debt to anyone, and she’d _really_ hate herself if the anyone turned out to be the five people she met earlier. 

Something about all of them, the easy way they got along, or didn’t get along, the nicknames and the inside jokes and the way their lives were obviously shared, grated on her nerves. That wasn’t supposed to be what happened, especially not to Ben— he was supposed to be the one alone, the one coming to _her _for forgiveness, for a place to stay, for pity. She gritted her teeth and thought about Finn’s warm hand and his free coffee and his apartment, with a room he’d promised was hers. She pushed those thoughts away.__

___This was a mistake._ _ _

__That was her new mantra as the exhaustion got the best of her. The four words flew through her mind like vultures, circling and circling as her eyes drifted shut and her head slumped back, on a park bench, in a strange city, nowhere close to being home._ _


	2. Finn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"...these are the days that must happen to you..."_

“ _Seriously_?” Finn asked, scraping his hands back over his close-cropped hair. He had a way of making even small gestures into statements of damnation, and he aimed that one right at Kylo. “What the hell was that?”

He took Rey’s seat across from Hux, and lifted BB-8 into his arms after the dog whined. (Finn remembered when Kylo wouldn’t even hold BB-8 because he’d shed all over and it showed up like a spotlight on black fabric.) “Don’t act all pissed ‘cause you lost your roommate.” 

“You think that’s what this is about?” Finn took a deep breath in. “Rey’s an _actual human being_ , okay, we can’t just let her walk out of here without fighting for her at least a little!”

“Agreed,” Poe said, and pulled up a chair, propping his feet up on the edge of Hux’s, who sneered but didn’t push them away. “But, I mean, I just ordered a latte, so maybe after that.”

Finn groaned, and started pacing. Phasma was at the other end of the bar, ringing out the only other customers in the Starbucks, and he remembered seeing two other employees enter for the start of their shift. He needed Phasma. She was by far the most level-headed of their friend group, barring him, and it would take their combined efforts to rally the other three and go search for Rey.

He and Phasma had been horrible roommates, and even worse co-workers, for those fateful few weeks he’d been a Starbucks employee, but as friends they ran a tight ship. She was now living happily alone, in the building across from Finn’s, and he was happily employed elsewhere.

_Had been_ happily employed. 

_Fuck_.

One of Phasma’s employees, a girl with pigtails and an eyebrow ring, slid a latte down the bar as she tied on her apron with her free hand. Finn remembered when Phasma had hired her, it had almost been solely on the aesthetic of that eyebrow ring, and he’d made fun of her for being shallow. He grabbed the latte, assuming it was Poe’s, and took a deep, scalding sip before handing it off.

It looked like Hux had returned to his homework, and Poe and Kylo were hunched over Poe’s phone, scrolling through someone’s Instagram as Kylo scratched absentmindedly behind BB-8’s ears. Finn tried to ignore his burnt tongue and kept pacing.

Rey had kept referring to him, to her brother, as _Ben_. That was weird, but Finn always forgot that Kylo’s name wasn’t really Kylo, or Ren, or any of the other nicknames they’d given him. They were barely even nicknames at this point; they were a different identity, something that Finn was sure was probably some sort of coping mechanism, a way to separate himself from his family.

The family he never talked about, the life he refused to acknowledge. _Rey._

No wonder she was pissed. Hell, he’d be pissed, too.

The customers finally left, Phasma had a small conference in the back corner with the two employees as Finn watched, and she finally hung up her apron and came around the front of the bar. Her blonde hair was pushed back with a bunch of black bobby pins, and she looped a silver scarf around her neck as she pulled up yet another chair to Hux’s table.

“This is only supposed to seat two,” he said without looking up from his laptop. Phasma kicked his leg.

“Don’t sass me,” she said. “Now, first order of business—”

“ _Finally_ ,” Finn breathed out. “Rey couldn’t have gotten too far, I think if we—”

“Not that,” Phasma cut him off. “What did I hear about you asking her to be your roommate?”

“Yeah, Finn,” Kylo said, passing BB-8 back over to Poe and rearranging himself on his chair, leaning his chin in his hand like a picture of innocence. “I thought you didn’t want a roommate. I thought you were going to use that extra room as a darkroom, or a yoga room, or something equally stupid.”

Finn glared, and thought long and hard about finding new friends.

“Seriously,” Phasma said. “What’s up?”

“The corporate retreat,” Finn started. Phasma nodded. 

“Oh, yeah, that was this week. I forgot— wait, you’re back early, though, aren’t you?”

“I quit,” he said. It had the same effect as it did when he said it in the backseat of Kylo’s car; the immediate silence, the stares. Even Hux closed his laptop, and when Hux closed his laptop, shit was going to get real. “Listen, I didn’t even mean to do it, but all the CEOs were there, and they were asking me in front of a million people about my goals, and my aspirations in the company, and I realized that I _didn’t have any_ —” 

“Making rent,” Phasma said disbelievingly. “Making rent should probably be one of those aspirations, huh?”

“There’s more than one way to make rent,” Poe said, and leaned back in his chair to slap the back of Finn’s leg. “I’m glad he did it. Get out of toxic places. Burn ‘em to the ground, if you have to.”

“That _toxic place_ cut him a check every two weeks,” Phasma argued. “It was a good job. And don’t talk about corporate arson in my store, please.”

Poe grinned as BB-8 butted the underside of his chin.

“Well, that clears up the roommate question, anyway,” Phasma continued. “Now it’s time to talk about the other shit, meaning _Ren_ —”he immediately tensed “—what in the name of _fuck_ are we going to do about your sister?” 

“What’s there to do?” he asked, defensive. “She’s the one that walked out. She’s the one that came here in the first place. She can go back to New Mexico for all I care.”

“Okay, wow,” Poe said. “She _is_ your sister.”

“And that means I have to take care of her?”

“Kind of,” Phasma said. Finn nodded. He didn’t have any siblings, but he’d always figured that was the rule. Get annoyed by them, hate their guts a little maybe, but take care of them always. It would have been nice to have someone always on his team.

“You left her in North Dakota to fend for herself,” Hux said. “You owe her one.”

“ _Seriously_ , you too?” Kylo crossed his arms and slouched down in his chair. “You’re supposed to be a stone-cold bitch, Hux. Back me up!”

“Finn needs a roommate,” Hux said. “Rey needs a place to stay. You need to keep your nose out of it. Problem solved. _Two_ problems solved. You’re welcome.”

“Put it to a vote?” Finn asked. Phasma nodded.

“All in favor of finding Rey and making sure she doesn’t get eaten by the city before it gets dark out?” Phasma raised her hand. “Say aye!”

“For the love of shit,” Kylo muttered. 

“ _Aye_.” Finn raised his hand, and so did Poe, and so did Phasma, and after brushing an imaginary piece of dirt off of his laptop, so did Hux. Kylo rolled his eyes and raised his hand as well.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

“I love group rulings,” Poe said as Phasma gathered his empty latte cup and Hux’s plate, which Finn guessed once had something on it, but now didn’t even have crumbs. He pulled a leash from his backpack and clipped it onto BB-8’s collar. 

“You only love them when they don’t involve you,” Finn replied, grinning as Poe made an offended noise. “Remember the hammer pants?”

Poe pointed his finger at Finn. “ _That was a good week_.”

“The hammer pants are dead, Dameron, let it go,” Hux said as he packed up his laptop. Phasma gathered her employees for one last huddle as Finn waited by the door with the other three, tapping his foot impatiently and watching the sun set through the Starbucks’ main window.

“I’ll take Poe and head uptown,” Phasma said, rejoining the group. “Text us if you find her first.”

“Losing group buys drinks?” Poe asked. Finn hit his shoulder. 

“You're only saying that ‘cause you’re with Phasma—”

Phasma grinned. “And I don't lose.” 

“We’ll cover more ground in the Roadmaster,” Kylo argued, and Hux raised an eyebrow. 

“That’s just not true.”

“Well, you don’t know what she looks like.”

It was Phasma’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “We _just_ saw her.”

“Aw,” Finn said, and grinned over his shoulder at Kylo. “Does someone need emotional support?”

He yanked open the door and glared at everyone, but mostly at Finn. “Just… Come on, okay?”

They all left the Starbucks and piled into the Roadmaster. Phasma had shotgun for eternity, thanks to a past bet that Finn could barely remember, and he was shuffled into the middle backseat between Hux and Poe. BB-8 rode up front; Phasma had partially rolled down the window and his nose was sticking through the crack as he panted excitedly. 

“So, who’s buying drinks?” Poe asked.

“Buy your own damn drinks,” Kylo answered, backing out of the parking spot and doing a quick, illegal u-turn, heading towards Central Park. “Someone ought to buy _me_ drinks, seeing how I have to deal with all of you.”

Finn couldn’t keep his eyes off the sidewalks and beyond, scanning everywhere for even one glimpse of Rey. She couldn’t have gotten far, but maybe she took a cab. Maybe she was already back at the airport. waiting for a plane to take her back to her old life, a life that was definitively worse than living with him. A small part of him had leapt at the chance to have a roommate again, even one as prickly as Rey, and he’d already started planning out ways to get to know her. His friend-making methods had already worked on one Solo, and Rey seemed far more reasonable than her brother.

Okay, so she’d ran off alone into the New York City night, so maybe not _that_ much more reasonable.

“I’ll buy one round,” Finn said, still scanning the dusky shadows, “once we find Rey.”

“And I’ll get the next one,” Phasma said. “Just because Finn quit his job today, so I think he needs at least two.” She leaned back and smiled at him, a nice smile, an I’m-not-judging-your-life-choices smile, and he returned it gratefully. Forget siblings, he was happy that Phasma was on his team.

“Fine, I’ll get round three,” Hux said. “It’s been a long day.”

“We have to drop Beebo off at home before we go out,” Poe said, and BB-8 whipped his head around as soon as he heard his name. Finn leaned up between the seats to scratch him underneath his chin.

“And I want to go change,” he added. Phasma nodded.

“I just bought a pair of kick-ass boots the other day,” she said. “They need to be broken in.”

The Roadmaster screeched to a halt and Finn knocked his head on the side of Phasma’s seat. 

“What the hell!” Finn said, and he was pretty sure he heard the same thing from all sides. Kylo leaned forward and pointed.

“There she is.”

Finn craned his neck. It _was_ her, it was Rey, sitting on a park bench with her duffel next to her. Wait— was she _sleeping_? He crawled over Poe and got out of the car. After waiting for Kylo to put it in park and meet him on the sidewalk, he gestured across the park at Rey and her bench.

“She’s asleep,” he said. Kylo rolled his eyes.

“Oh my god.”

The two of them walked —Finn’s was more of a determined march, Kylo’s was more of a meander— towards Rey. She was _definitely_ asleep; her head tilted back, her arms wrapped protectively around her backpack strap, and Finn swore he heard a soft snore. Kylo nudged her backpack with his foot, and jumped back.

Finn wasn’t quick enough. She shot off of the bench and came at him right-foot first, catching him in the chest hard enough to knock him on his back. She followed, off-balance and tangled in her duffel bag straps, and landed right on top of him, knocking the breath out of him.

“Holy fuck!” she yelled, rolling off of him as Kylo laughed in the background. Finn sucked air in and coughed it back out, leaning up on his elbows. Rey was already on her feet again; she picked up both of her bags and flung them viciously back on the bench. “What the goddamn hell are you two doing here?”

“Getting you, idiot,” Kylo said, and Finn got the pleasure of watching Rey spin to punch him in the gut, hard enough that he doubled over. “ _Fuck—_ ”

“I told you to leave me alone,” she spat. “And I meant it! _Leave._ ”

“We’re not leaving you to sleep on a bench,” Finn said, and struggled to his feet. “Come on, Rey, half my apartment’s still yours. Especially if I get to watch you punch Kylo some more, because that was awesome.”

“Shut up, Finn,” Kylo groaned.

“Why do they even call you that?” Rey spun back towards Kylo. Finn caught a glimpse of bared teeth and furious dark eyes. “You kill Ben off just like you did the rest of us? I knew I’d regret coming here, but I never thought it’d be this quick.”

“Rey—”

“No, that’s not allowed. We’re not siblings anymore, _Kylo_ , so you can fuck right off!”

She stomped to the bench and hiked her backpack over her shoulders, hefting the duffel in her arms and turning back to face Finn.

“If you’ll have me for a couple days, I’d love to stay at your place.”

“Uh,” he said, looking back and forth from Rey to Kylo, who, for lack of a better word, actually looked a little hurt. “Okay, um, let me grab my suitcase from the car. We can walk it, it’s not too far from here.”

Without another word, Rey turned and headed for the Roadmaster. Finn nudged Kylo in the side.

“She’ll come around.”

Kylo’s eyebrows furrowed and Finn couldn’t help but think that if Rey was anything remotely like her stubborn ass of a brother, _coming around_ would take more work than he’d originally thought. They started walking back to the street and Kylo let out a heavy breath.

“I don’t think she will.”

★★★

“Here we are,” Finn said, unlocking his door and showing Rey inside. The walk from Central Park to his apartment building was a lot farther than he’d originally judged, but Rey took it in stride, not accepting his offer to help her carry her bags, but that was to be expected. She’d been quiet on the walk, commenting once on the lights (there were a lot, but she liked it), once on the scarf Finn put on (blue was okay, but maroon would look better), and not at all on her fight with her brother. Finn liked the lights too, he’d been on the fence about the blue scarf but he liked blue better than _maroon_ , and he was just fine with pretending there hadn’t been a fight at all.

(His shoulder kind of hurt from being knocked to the ground for the second time that day, but he wasn’t about to comment on it.)

“Are you really okay with this?” Rey asked. Her eyes were wide and, for once, easy to read. This was killing her, his generosity, and she honestly had no idea how to respond. “I’ll be out of your hair in a week, tops.”

“Here’s your room,” Finn said, ignoring her and not using the word _guest_ , pushing the door to the other bedroom open with his foot and flipping on the light. It was a little smaller than his, but it still had a double mattress in the corner from when he shared the apartment with Poe, and a multi-stemmed lamp, and a dresser. Not much else, but hey. It was better than a park bench. “The bed was Poe’s, hope you don’t mind.”

“What about me would make you think I’d mind?” Rey asked, dropping her bags and kicking them farther into the room. She turned to face Finn, the beginnings of a small smile creeping across her face. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Bathroom’s that door,” he continued, pointing back into the hallway. “KItchen’s down the hall, eat whatever you want until you can shop for yourself, okay? We’ll use labels and stuff then.”

“Finn—”

“And I have Netflix _and_ Hulu,” he finished. “Well, technically the Hulu’s mine, but I’m on Hux’s Netflix, so we have to deal with all his random ass documentaries. But they just put _Moana_ on, and I heard that was really good, so maybe we could watch it tomorrow night—”

He choked to a halt as Rey threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. It was unexpected and harsh at first, her nose jammed into his shoulder, her arms tight, but it melted slowly into warmth. She smelled like outdoors, but not the city. She smelled like sunshine and sand, like gasoline and honey. He pulled away first, and pretended not to notice the way she wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand.

“Thank you,” she said, and her voice rasped.

“Hey,” he said, pushing her shoulder slightly. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll make it work.”

His phone buzzed in his back pocket and he checked it surreptitiously as she moved her ratty pillow from the floor to the bed. Poe.

_dude you’re coming out, right?? phasma’s meeting us there_

He typed a response— _I’m not sure yet. Rey’s unpacking right now, maybe once she’s done?_

_lol ok!! tell her we’re all super cool and fun to hang out with and ALSO we want to watch her punch k again_

FInn let out a soft breath down towards his phone, almost like a laugh, and Rey turned from her place on the floor in front of her open duffel. Things were already everywhere. _How?_

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he said, and then made a shrugging gesture with his phone. “They all want us to come out and get drinks. It’s no big deal, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“You want to,” she said.

He paused for a second. “I might have promised to get the first round if we found you.”

“If.”

“Hey, you moved pretty fast.”

She grinned. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Really?”

Her face hardened until it was deadly serious. “Finn, I know you just met me, but know this. I never _ever_ fuck around when free drinks are on the line.”

He laughed, and held out his hand to help her off the floor. She took it this time, heaving herself upright and flipping a shirt up with her foot high enough to catch it. 

“Let me shower quick and then we can go,” she said. “Gotta get this New Mexico dust off me, all the city folk’ll know I’m from out of town.” Finn laughed again and showed her how to use the shower, after finding a clean towel deep in his closet and a spare toothbrush he’d gotten as part of the welcome package during the retreat. 

He closed the door behind him as the water started to run. Kicking off his dress shoes, he changed into dark jeans and a button-up shirt that Phasma had given him for his birthday a few years ago; it was maroon, and as he dug in his closet for a jacket, he couldn’t help but think _maybe Rey might like it_.

He flipped the TV on for background noise as he texted Poe again.

_We’re in, btw. Where are you guys going?_

_hell yeah youre in! we’re not there yet, and you got 1st round, remember?_

_Yeah, yeah_

_we’re going to cantina. kylo says you owe him 4 drinks minimum_

Finn sent him a long line of the crying-laughing emojis as Rey came into the living room. Her damp hair was half-up, and she was wearing leggings tucked into her boots, and a striped sweater with the sleeves covering her hands.

“I don’t really have any nice clothes,” she said, and he watched as she eyed him up and down. “Didn’t have a lot of use for nice things in New Mexico.”

“What did you even do there?” Finn asked as he grabbed his wallet and held the door open for her. “I mean, besides roll around in the sand with your old, awful friends.”

Rey laughed, but it almost sounded reluctant, and more than a little sad. “What friends?”

“Come on,” he said as he led them down the hall and to the elevator. He’d been lucky enough to score an apartment close to the top of his building. “You’re telling me you don’t make friends wherever you go?” The look she gave him was more than enough. “Okay, you had to have _someone_. Friends, acquaintances, a cute boyfriend…”

She shoved his shoulder. “No boyfriend. No girlfriend, either. Too busy rolling around in the sand, remember?”

“Ah,” Finn said, and gave her a long, searching look. “Too bad. Maybe they would have mellowed you out a little.”

She let out an offended little noise, part-laugh, part-screech, and shoved him again. He pushed her back, shoulder-to-shoulder, as they waited for the elevator. They ended up standing all pressed together, her arm warm against his even through both of their layers. The only thing he could feel was her body heat. The only thing he could smell was his shampoo still lingering on her drying hair.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked as the elevator _ding_ ed open and they got on. He pressed _ground_ , and she looked confused.

“Okay?”

“Tonight,” he said. “In about seven and a half minutes you’re going to walk into a bar and Ky— _your brother_ is going to be there.” Her eyes darkened, but he pretended not to notice, and pressed on. “I don’t know what to tell you, Rey. We’re all friends. Maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet?”

“You don’t know how many hatchets there are to bury.”

Finn held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not telling you what to do. You’re family, that’s all, and I don’t—”

“I won’t punch him again,” Rey said as they left the elevator, crossed the lobby, and plunged into the cold city night. “I don’t know if I can do, like, group hangouts. I don’t know if I can even talk to him. But no physical violence. That’s the best I can give you.”

“It would be nice to not get kicked out of this bar,” Finn said.

“Wait, _what?_ ”

“What did I say?”

“You said, and I quote, it would be nice to not get kicked out of _this_ bar,” Rey repeated. “You put a weird inflection on _this_. How many bars have you been kicked out of?” Finn rubbed the back of his neck as she gaped. “More than one?”

“It might have been… More than one,” he said. “They weren’t my fault!”

A beat of silence, and then he coughed.

“Not all of them.”

“Finn!” Rey said, and he laughed. 

“Kidding. There was a small incident last spring with Hux and tequila shots, and that one place uptown where your lovely brother got into a fight with Poe like two years ago, but that’s all. That’s all I know of, anyway.” He paused and re-evaluated. “I have _no idea_ about Phasma’s getting-kicked-out-of-bars track record, though.”

“She’s the blonde,” Rey said, kicking at a few leaves. Finn nodded.

“I told her I quit my job after you left the Starbucks,” he said. “I still don’t know if she’s pissed or impressed. Probably both, she tends to be _pissed, and_ a lot of the time.”

Rey had procured a hat from somewhere in the backpack slung over her shoulder, and tugged it down over her ears. “You two close?”

“Me and Phasma?” Finn asked, knowing that was what she’d meant. “Yeah, but not in that way. She was the first person I met here, out of our group anyway. We used to work together.”

“At the Starbucks?”

“At the Starbucks.” Finn nodded. “It _sucked_. We did not get along.”

“Because you weren’t good at making coffee?” Rey joked. Finn scoffed.

“I was _great_ at making coffee. I’m serious, I’ll make you some tomorrow morning.”

Before Rey could answer, Finn caught sight of Cantina, more specifically, Poe and Hux hanging out by the entrance. Poe raced over as Hux followed behind.

“Look who made it!” he said, patting Finn on the back like he usually did, and pulling Rey into a side hug. She took it like a champ, even though Finn was pretty sure she didn’t want to be hugged. Poe was like that —always touchy— but Finn knew that once he got to know Rey he’d also get to know her boundaries, and internalize them like he had with the rest of the group. As for Finn, he didn’t mind Poe’s invasions of his personal bubble; he liked the hugs and hair-ruffles and enthusiastic arm-grabs. 

“And you,” Poe continued, pulling Finn close on his other side, “you’re paying first, so get the hell in there!”

He pushed Finn towards the door, where he flashed his ID to the bouncer before slipping inside. Phasma and Kylo had a table in the back, their usual table when they could get it, with an extra chair added. Four shot glasses and four shriveled lime wedges were already scattered in front of them, and Phasma was telling a loud story when Finn interrupted purposefully, ramming her shoulder with his as he scooted into the chair next to hers.

“What the fuck, guys,” he said, also loudly. Cantina was chill, but at night they had live music out on the deck, the deck was very close to their table, and the walls were thin. “I thought you were waiting for—”

“Took too long,” Phasma said in his ear. “Now go! You know what to do.”

Finn rolled his eyes and headed back to the bar. He passed Poe and Hux, and snagged Rey’s arm, making a note of how blatantly relieved she looked to see him again. “Want to help me carry drinks?”

“More than anything in the entire world,” she said, and shouldered her way to the front of the small crowd at the bar. Taking Finn’s credit card over her shoulder she slid it towards the bartender with a smile. “Jack and Coke. A double, please.”

_Damn_ , Finn found himself thinking. _She can schmooze when she wants to. And I’ve never gotten served that quick here._

And he was going to capitalize on it. Leaning back-to-back with Rey, he whispered in her ear.

“I want a Long Island iced tea,” he said. She hummed in response and relayed it to the bartender. “And two margaritas, the daily special. And a Moscow mule, and a Sam Adams.”

“Damn, Finn, going hard tonight?”

“They’re for the group,” Finn answered, and rolled his eyes. “You knew that.”

“I knew that,” she said as the bartender slid one, two, three drinks across the bar. Rey’s, and the two margaritas. “Who do these go to?”

“I’ll take that one,” he said, sliding one of the margaritas towards himself as the bartender put Poe’s beer next to Rey’s drink. “The Sam Adams is Poe’s, the other marg goes to Phasma.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “You can trust me to give Ben his damn drink without spitting in it.” She paused, and squinted down at the margarita. “Let me spit in it.”

“Nope.” Finn shooed her away. “You have your mission. Poe and Phasma.”

Rey rolled her eyes and gathered the drinks with the aplomb only a former waitress or bartender could. Finn made a mental note to ask her what she used to do for a living. She had to be around his age, twenty-three, so did she have a career back in New Mexico? School? _Shit_. He knew almost nothing about the girl he’d asked to be his roommate. He didn’t even know how old she was.

_They let her in here, so she’s gotta be over twenty-one_ , he thought.

_Who knows what kind of jank-ass fake IDs they even make in New Mexico,_ he argued back. _She’s a stranger. And she’s your roommate now!_

_At least she’s normal. Relatively!_

_She’s weird,_ he thought, and tried, unsuccessfully, to push it away. _She’s Kylo’s sister, for fuck’s sake. She’s got a laundry list of weird, and she hates all of your friends!_

_Not_ all of them.

_Kylo, for sure._ If Finn’s inner monologue had fingers, it was counting on them. _And Phasma, and she didn’t seem so fond of Hux and Poe a couple minutes ago. How are you supposed to be friends with someone who’s enemies are your other friends?_

_So eloquent._

_Don’t belittle me!_

_You’re an idiot._

_And you’re a jackass!_

The bartender slid his Long Island across the bar, along with Hux’s drink. Finn caught his eye.

“Can I actually have another?” 

The bartender nodded. Finn left his tab open. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Rey.


	3. Rey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"...once you've started to leave, you will run your whole life..."_

Maneuvering the Sam Adams between the two glasses, Rey wound her way through the crowd at the bar. She was honestly considering just ditching Finn and his friends, taking all three drinks, and either going back to his apartment alone or finding that park bench again. The alcohol would keep her warm, and she wouldn’t have to deal with, well, whatever this was.

Not for the first time, Rey found herself missing the desert.

_Fuck,_ she thought. _Not this again. I need to shut up and stop, I don’t know, fucking_ wallowing. _I’m in New York City! I promised myself I’d deal with the weirdness for one night, for Finn, because he’s been so generous. He let me live in his place, I used his shampoo—_

And then she rounded the corner, saw Ben at the table, and he looked away immediately. Message received. He was pissed, but so was she.

_Yeah, fuck this shit, I’m going back to New Mexico._

She was honest-to-God about to turn around in the middle of the bar when Poe pushed his chair back with a loud _screech_ and grabbed his beer right out of her hand. He yanked back the chair between him and Phasma, and gestured grandly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Phasma said as Rey handed down the margarita and took the seat Poe offered. “You’re the guest, you don’t have to get drinks, too.”

“Finn paid,” Rey said uncomfortably. She took a long sip of her drink —the bartender did _not_ skimp on the Jack, which she was forever grateful for— and took her phone out of her jacket pocket. No new texts, no new e-mails (unsurprisingly), and one twelve-minute voicemail from a New Mexico phone number, probably her boss at the garage giving her hell. She ignored it and opened Instagram instead.

“You should follow me,” Phasma said, and leaned closer to Rey. She was so tall that her shoulder didn’t even hit Rey’s, instead it was her upper forearm. “ _Captainphaz_ , with a ‘z’. I post a lot of good shit.”

“Are you plugging your Instagram?” Hux asked, also with his nose in his phone. 

“When is she not?” Ben said, and it was the first time she’d heard him speak since punching him in the park. That had felt nice. It had been vindictive, and it had been mean, maybe, but it felt nice. Part of her had wanted to hit him for a long time, since before New Mexico, since before he’d left to live with their uncle. Part of her still wasn’t satisfied.

“Shut up,” Phasma said, and finished her margarita. “Seriously, type it in. C-A-P-T—”

“I got it,” Rey said, and pulled up Phasma’s Instagram profile. _Holy hell_. She had a ton of followers, a two-digit number with a K following it. Mostly coffee photos, with a few nature shots with selfies sprinkled here and there. A chrome motorcycle, Poe’s dog, a selfie with a very ginger cat, Hux and Finn in the park looking up at a tree. Closer inspection of the tree picture revealed that Ben was in the tree, higher up than she thought he’d be able to go.

“We may or may not have had to call the fire department,” Phasma said. Ben’s head shot up.

“Are you talking about the fucking tree incident? We did _not_ have to—”

“We had to call the fire department,” Hux said without looking up from his phone.

“There was a fine,” Poe said.

“It was four hundred dollars,” Phasma finished.

“The tree?” Finn asked, coming up behind Rey to put the rest of the drinks on the table. “Good times.”

“I need another,” Phasma said, and took a sip from one of the Long Islands. “Can I have this?”

“You’re gonna get fucked up,” Finn said. “But sure.”

He went to go sit on the other side of the table, between Hux and Poe. Rey went back to scrolling Phasma’s profile, but picture after picture of their group doing things together— Phasma, Hux, and Ben eating tacos, Finn and Poe digging through records in a secondhand store, Phasma and Finn at a farmer’s market looking at apples, Poe’s dog and the ginger cat in an awkward sort of stare-down— made her sad. She didn’t want to feel sad. 

As she knocked back the rest of her drink, Finn caught her eyes.

“Want another?” he asked. Before she could answer, Phasma stood. Without wobbling, which was impressive.

“My turn. Who wants what?”

They went around and gave their drink orders. Rey asked for the same drink, even though she doubted that Phasma would be able to remember. After she headed up to the bar, Hux set down his phone in a firm, decisive manner.

“Rey Solo,” he said.

“That’s my name,” she replied slowly.

“Who are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like, what’s your deal?” Poe asked. 

“Ren sure as hell isn’t going to tell us,” Hux said. Ben made a choked sort of noise.

“Because it’s none of your damn business!”

“Hey, listen up,” Rey said, and she felt herself glaring, first at Hux, then at Poe. _Fuck, I should not have gotten a double. I get so pissed off when I drink even a little._ “I don’t agree with him, ever, but I will on this. Back off.”

“Finn wants to know, too,” Hux said off-handedly. Finn made the same noise Ben had.

“If she wants to keep secrets, then—”

“They’re not secrets!” Rey said loudly. “I just don’t _know_ any of you, and I don’t think I really want to, so—”

She cut herself off after she watched Finn’s face fall. _Double fuck._

“Wow, Finn, I didn’t mean that. You’ve been super nice to me, but—” 

“But we’re not friends,” he said, and drank the rest of his Long Island. “I get it.”

“Solo family fun fact number one,” Ben said as Phasma returned from the bar with an armful of drinks. “We’re great at fucking things up.”

Rey sank back into her chair, grateful for the bar’s dim lighting to hide her red face and doubly grateful for Phasma, who pushed a Jack and Coke towards her and leaned back in close like she had been earlier. 

“Here,” Phasma said, not even questioning why the vibe at the table was decisively more awkward, and slid their drinks together. “Let me take a picture, come on, guys, get your drinks in.”

Ben pushed his into the center and so did Hux, and Poe, and finally Finn, who hadn’t looked at Rey once. Phasma leaned over them and snapped a picture with her phone, and leaned back against Rey as she tested a few filters on it. Rey couldn’t help but watch out of the corner of her eye as Phasma rotated the picture, re-applied the filter (it really was perfect), and saved it to open on Instagram. 

“Caption?” she asked the group. Poe lifted and dropped one shoulder.

“ _Cantina_ ,” he said with gusto. Phasma rolled her eyes.

“No, no.” She typed something quickly and passed it around the table, Ben squinted at it, Hux read it intently, and finally it got to Rey. She glared at the phone until the words focused.

_life changes suuuck but good friends are forever xoxo #drinks #squadgoals #ironichashtagsbutreallytho_

“Life changes suck,” Finn said. He raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

Rey lifted hers too, and tapped Finn’s. He finally met her eyes and she managed a wry little smile, an _I’m-sorry-for-being-myself_ smile, an _I’ll-try-to-do-better_ smile. He smiled back, and it went all the way up until it reached his eyes, his warm brown eyes with the laugh creases and— Rey stopped herself, forcing her eyes down and on the lime floating belly-up in her drink.

_I’m staying_ , she surprised even herself by thinking. _I want this. I want to live with Finn in his apartment, I want to be tagged in Insta-famous Phasma’s posts, I want to do this, go out for drinks on Fridays at Cantina. I want to get a job and make it in this stupid city. I want to prove to myself that I can do this._

_That means—_ she glanced over at Ben, who was staring intently at the warped wood tabletop like it held the secrets of the universe. _Damn it._

Covertly, she slipped her phone off the table and opened a new text message without anyone seeing her do it. 

_can we talk?_

His phone buzzed, and she tried not to watch as he checked it and typed back.

_Why not_

He stood. “I’ll be right back.”

Pushing his chair backwards, he took two steps and was at the back door of Cantina, the one that led to the outdoor deck. He held it open and, turning back only slightly, gestured for Rey. _So much for covert._ She slid her phone in her pocket and also shoved her chair back, ignoring the hugely loud grating noise it made on the floor. The only thing she did before following Ben was throw an uncomfortable peace sign towards the group, and then she let the door swing shut behind her.

The band playing at Cantina that night wasn’t bad, but they also weren’t very good. The electric guitar wailed towards the night sky as Rey slipped in front of Ben, picking a table near the back of the deck, under a particularly dim swathe of Christmas lights. She sat and he did too, right next to her, sticking his impossibly long legs through the slats of another chair across from them. 

He looked over, and his dark brows drew together over his dark eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

She managed a tight-lipped smile, but she knew it probably looked more like an unenthused grimace. “Me neither.”

It was quiet for a few minutes. A waiter came around to their table and Ben got them both water, and it was quiet after that, too. The waiter came back with the water, caught the vibe, and left immediately. 

Rey stirred the lemon around the ice with her straw. 

“You’re pissed I’m here.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Not really. You gut-punched me, though, so…”

“I’m not apologizing for that.”

“I don’t want you to.”

Silence.

The waiter came back. “Do you guys want anyth—”

“No.” Ben crossed his arms.

The waiter left.

More silence, and more wailing guitar, accompanied by a wailing vocalist.

Rey stirred her water some more. “Do all bands in New York blow chode?”

“Just this one in particular,” Ben replied, and it was, for a second, completely normal to have her brother, dry and snarky and _normal_ , sitting next to her. 

“Any tips for living with Finn?” she asked eventually. “He said you guys used to be roommates.”

“He wakes up early,” he said. Rey made a face. “I know. Listens to a lot of dumb, like, synth-pop. Eats granola.”

“Good granola?”

“What the fuck is _good granola_?”

Rey shrugged. “I gotta go buy shampoo and stuff. Um, I actually need a job first, you know, for money.”

“Work with Phasma.”

“At the Starbucks?”

“No, at the space station. _Yeah_ , at the Starbucks.”

Rey kicked his chair. “You think she’ll hire me?”

“Tell her it’s temporary and yeah, she’ll hire you. She’s a pain in the ass to work for, I’m just telling you right now. If you bring it up she won’t even deny it.”

Rey was silent for a few seconds, weighing the pros and cons of working for one of her brother’s friends at a Starbucks. For one thing, it was apparently a guaranteed job. Part time, probably, and minimum wage, probably, but a guaranteed job. For another thing, she was flat broke. 

“Okay, I’ll ask her tomorrow,” she said finally. “Where do you work?”

He shrugged. “Places.”

“You’re the worst.”

The waiter came back, setting a Jack and Coke in front of Rey and one in front of Ben.

“What’s this?” Ben asked.

“Compliments of some pissed-off redhead.” The waiter jerked a thumb back at the inside of the bar. “In there. He also said, and I’m quoting here, _can you please work through your family issues some other time_ , end quote.”

Ben rolled his eyes at the waiter’s retreating back. “Well?”

“We should go back in, huh?” Rey took a long sip of her drink. “Thank your friends for buying me drinks all night and everything.”

“You can be friends with them, too, you know.”

Rey squinted. “You know that means seeing me around.”

“You’re already living with Finn. And probably working with Phasma.”

A long pause.

“And,” he continued, slowly, “I kind of missed out on a long time, you know, of getting to know you. Which sucks.”

“ _You suck_ ,” she corrected. He scoffed.

“I know.”

They finished their respective drinks on the deck in silence, listening to the band, who were a lot better at slow songs. Rey felt warm, and she knew it wasn’t because of her sweater, and it wasn’t because of the whiskey. This had the potential to be okay. She was going to avoid the topic of their parents and North Dakota in general like hell, but this, _New York_ and all the stuff that came along with it, had the potential to be okay.

She was sitting next to Ben, she didn’t want to gouge his eyes out, and everything had the potential to be okay.

★★★

Rey woke up the next morning in a strange bedroom with a terrible, throbbing headache.

_Oh, yeah_ , she thought to herself as she cursed the open blinds and the awful sunlight shining through the window, _maybe I shouldn’t have taken shots. Maybe I shouldn’t have finished Poe’s beer. Maybe I shouldn’t have—_

The rest of the night was a blur. Rey didn’t consider herself a lightweight by any means, but she hadn’t gone out, with people, with the intention to drink, in forever. Her mouth felt like a raisin, and the headache prowled around behind her eyes.

“Finn,” she tried to yell, but it came out as a weak croak.

“Shut up,” someone groaned from the floor. Rey stifled a shriek (more like another gross-sounding old man croak), and forced herself to sit up and look around. Through the hazy beams of sunlight she made out Phasma, laying on the floor with her head in a pile of Rey’s clothing (probably from the open duffel next to her). 

“You want a pillow?” Rey managed to get out. Phasma nodded. 

Rey flipped over and came face-to-face with Poe, fast asleep with his mouth hanging open. She flailed.

“Oh my god!”

Poe, without opening his eyes, patted her face a few times before turning over, pulling all of the blanket off of Rey in the process. She growled something unintelligible (even to herself) under her breath, grabbed a pillow, dropped it right on top of Phasma, and, with her head still pounding, left the room. 

_Thank fuck someone else is awake_ , she thought as she shuffled into the living room. Ben was still passed out, sprawled on his stomach on Finn’s couch, but Hux was sitting cross-legged on the love seat next to him. He had a bowl of cereal in one hand, and was watching the news with the volume turned low. He gestured with his spoon in greeting.

“Any more of that left?” she asked. He pointed into the attached kitchen.

“Milk’s on the island.”

“Thanks,” she replied, already in the kitchen. A cabinet yielded a bowl, a drawer a spoon, and Finn had an almost full box of _Captain Crunch_ on top of his fridge. She gathered everything in her arms and went back into the living room. Hux started to scoot over, but she made herself comfortable on the floor beside Ben’s head, arranging her cereal and bowl on the coffee table. 

“You got?” she asked, pouring her cereal.

“ _Frosted Flakes_ ,” he mumbled around a mouthful. She hummed.

“This a normal thing?”

“I mean, I usually try to stay away from sugar—”

“No, the getting drunk and crashing at Finn’s place,” she said. “If I’m gonna live here, I want to be able to gauge how often I’ll wake up to Poe in my bed.”

“To be fair, Dameron was blacked out. He probably still thought that was his bed,” Hux said. 

Rey lifted and dropped one shoulder. _Okay, well, that’s understandable._

“And, yeah, this happens a lot,” he continued. “Sometimes it’s a different bar, and sometimes we end up at someone else’s place, but blowing off steam? Yeah, it happens a lot.”

He gestured towards Ben with his spoon. “Did you at least make up last night?”

“I haven’t seen him in eight years,” Rey said, stirring her cereal until milk sloshed over the edge of the bowl. “It’s not that simple.”

“Did you know we were roommates for almost two years?” Hux asked. “And he didn’t bring you up one time. Not even once.”

“That’s not helping,” Rey said, and even though her head hurt like hell, she managed a scowl. They ate in silence for a while. The only things she could hear were spoons clinking against ceramic and the muted undertones of the TV in the background. Ben was so quiet that for a while she thought he was dead, and then he’d breathe in again.

“So,” she said eventually. She was hungover, and being pissed took too much energy. “You lived together?”

“It sucked,” Hux said, sliding his bowl onto the coffee table next to hers. She drank her milk, he did not. “I don’t know if you know this, but he’s the worst.”

“If he was as bad at being a roommate than he was at being a brother, you have my condolences.”

That made Hux smirk, and he threw a pillow at Ben.

“Wake up, we’re shit-talking you.”

Ben groaned, and turned over. “Shut up, I’m perfect.”

Snagging a handful of dry cereal, Rey relocated to sit next to Hux, alternating between eating pieces of cereal and launching them at Ben. Now that she was up and full of cereal, her hangover didn’t seem half as bad. She and Hux alternated between watching the news and flipping it to _Spongebob_ reruns during commercials (which eventually turned into watching _Spongebob_ reruns and turning it to the news during commercials) until Finn emerged from his room, rubbing his eyes. 

“Is he dead?” he asked through a massive yawn, gesturing at Ben. 

“Nope, checked already,” Hux said, and stole a piece of Rey’s cereal. 

“Well, fuck.” Finn took a mug out of a cabinet and tore open a packet of instant oatmeal. “Anyone want some oatmeal?”

Ben, with his back still turned, raised his hand. Hux shrugged.

“Yeah, sure.’

“Yes!” Rey said emphatically. “Do you have cinnamon?”

“Who doesn’t have cinnamon?” Finn slid the shaker onto his island, and poured out an entire box of instant oatmeal packets. “Okay, there’s original, cinnamon apple, and fruit and nut—”

“Are you making oatmeal?” Phasma came out of Rey’s room, with Poe half-slung over her shoulder. “Classic Finn hangover morning. Make me original?”

She shoved Poe towards the living room, where he fell right on top of Ben, who groaned loudly but didn’t move otherwise. 

“I want original, too,” Hux said, and flipped the channel back to _Spongebob_. 

“Cinnamon apple,” Rey said.

“Same,” Ben said, muffled but understandable. 

“I don’t know what you all are on. Fruit and nut is the shit.” Finn arranged a slew of mugs, all big, the kind that made Rey immediately want to fill them with soup or tea and curl up with them in a window seat during a rainstorm. Finn was deft and quick, like he was an expert in making his hungover friends oatmeal, and soon he was coming around and handing out mugs.

Rey’s mug was big and blue, and had a mountain range painted on it in white and maroon. He’d sprinkled a big dose of cinnamon on top of the oatmeal, and it was warm and filling, and she felt her hangover physically shrinking.

Everyone started becoming real humans again. Poe went to go sit at the island and heckled Finn until he made him a fried egg, and Ben finished his oatmeal and poured himself some of Rey’s _Captain Crunch_ into the same mug.

It was nice, it was _more_ than nice, watching everyone go about their morning from the corner of Finn’s love seat, warm with her mug of oatmeal in her lap. Rey was content, and for a second, everything was perfect.

Until Ben’s phone started ringing.

“Anyone know this number?” he asked, and read off the phone number. “People don’t call me, what the hell. It’s not nineteen ninety-five anymore.”

Rey cringed. “Ben?”

He looked over. “Yeah? What’s wrong?”

She took a deep breath.

“That’s dad’s number.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Finn.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/kudos are the best things in the world, and I'm under the same username on tumblr if you want to yell about this au/Star Wars/really anything in general. Until next time!
> 
> -Gab


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